Too Many Babies, Too Much Movement

these baby's are growing really fast

Looking for someone who wants to RP a shade darker, where you are the unwilling subject of my insidious impregnation. Whether I am a passive tech whiz, alien race, summoned demon, maybe a PETA person trying to save the whales (or Bigfoot), I would love to experiment on you and make you swell with creatures, eggs, babies, demons, somethings beyond your understanding without any empathy.

Please PM me if you would like to be ruthlessly filled.

Aranaro finds a Dragon's lair, and unable to resist the temptation, attempts to steal some of the many ancient, golden treasures within. All from under the nose of a sleeping dragon. With glittering valuables as far as the eye can see, surely he won't miss a mere few pieces.

After carefully climbing down the mountain trail and heading back into town with a heavy bag, he's ready to celebrate getting away unscathed.

However, unbeknownst to him, the Dragon had been very much awake the entire time, and already in the process of laying a curse upon him.

{ ★ if you enjoy my work, please consider reblogging ★ }

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(only halfway done cooking! hang in there big guy! 🎉)

𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅. 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝖽. 𝖬𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗌, 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒:

• Aro is carrying an egg, a single egg—a dragon's egg. He's honestly just lucky its small for its size.

•    He only has about an hour after returning to the township before he begins to notice any change. He celebrates with Sylvia, both getting moderately tipsy until he starts to feels nauseous. Aro chalks it up to all the hiking he's done today, and calls it a night.

•   It's hours later when he wakes up that his legs feel more sore and heavy than feels normal, and he finds himself unable to sit up right due to the preposterously swollen belly that sits on his lap. (see above picture)

•   He's now drenched in sweat, the sweltering heat from the egg, even wrapped deep within his body, radiates throughout the room, turning it into what feels like a sauna.

•   With Sylvia's help, he has to lay in a bath of cold water, forcing himself to endure it lest he test his luck on heatstroke. His belly steams as the water hits it. He can barely fit inside. Even the buckets of ice-cold water that Sylvia periodically pours over him is not enough, only adding more steam to the room and immediately becoming lukewarm.

•   To make things worse, later in the evening, the egg has started to turn the wrong direction. The tethered tip of the egg sits in his chest, jabbing at important organs—while the widened end sits in his lower pelvis, specifically on hips that are not quite wide enough to pass through.

•   And to top it off, Aro has started to feel the first of many contractions to come.

you have a gif that you’ve used a few times of a man in red putting some sort of powder on a pregnant woman’s stomach, forcing her into labor in some sort of ritual. do you know what movie that’s from? it looks so familiar but i can’t find anything!

Hi, it's from Soul's Midnight 2006.

She sat in church, smiling, listening to the pastor talk about the value of purity and the spiritual power of saving yourself for marriage. "I could never break that vow." She told herself, almost tearing up, overcome with love for God.

She didn't know about the "prank" her little brother had pulled when they all got together for the holiday. A syringe of sperm inserted between her legs while she was asleep after some pills were put in her drink. He'd just wanted to know what would happen,he'd just learned that it could cause something really special,but nobody told him what. He was careful, her hymen was still intact and everything.

Now her inbred abomination was swelling her belly round, though she told herself it was just being careless with her diet. No big deal. She had no idea she was growing a deeply sinful fruit inside her, one that no priest would ever excuse or forgive her for creating.

She would remain joyously oblivious until she laid in her bedroom in the middle of the night months later, the head of this horrific burden taking her virginity, making this profane birth even more obscene and sinful. Praying to God to take this misery and pain and fear from her, to show her mercy. But if he heard, he didn't care. And, push by push, her own cousin slid out of her. She only realized she'd been pregnant when the newborn began to cry...

In the Name of Science

words: 7627

content: birth denial, clothing birth, mutual birth, fpreg

Co-written with the wonderful and endlessly imaginative @shhhsecretsideblog

First entry into the Spell-verse, a series of stories revolving around a town blanketed by a rapid pregnancy and birth spell.

The news already had coined a name for it. Go figure, Char thought, shaking her head at the display of pure pseudoscience on the screen before her.

“Yes, that’s right,” a reporter spoke. “Emergency services have taken a census and The Spell seems to have affected every person able to bear children in the town.”

“The Spell,” Char scoffed, shaking her head. “Call it a virus, a fluke of biology, whatever. Just don’t chalk it up to magic.”

Because if it was magic, that would mean her science would be ineffectual on the obvious life growing inside her belly, now looking full-term with a baby that she hadn’t been pregnant with this morning. It rippled, hanging low between the scientist’s thighs. She placed a palm on her stretched tummy. The evidence, she thought, speaks for itself.

“Shouting at the tele again Char?” Laura said as she waddled into their lab. Her long white coat hung open at her sides, her own newly formed bump making the coat too small to fit round her frame.

“Got you a coffee.” She passed the hot drink to her boss and went over to sit on the stool by her own workstation. It took a bit of navigating, still not used to this extra weight she now carried, but eventually she plumped herself on the high metal chair.

“I mean, they aren’t wrong calling it ‘The Spell.’ What’s happening here is unheard of. All these pregnancies are popping up very much like magic.” Laura rubbed the circumference of her large belly that now sat heavily atop her thighs. She could feel the baby moving inside, it was so strange. Pregnancy and birth was never something she thought she’d experience. She understood it, she knew all about the process, but it was something else entirely actually experiencing it. And going through it all within the space of a day was a bit of a rollercoaster.

They’d done scans and knew they were carrying human babies, it wasn’t anything supernatural or alien, but it was just the speed, it was unprecedented. The baby in her womb shifted and kicked her in the ribs “Oof!” She huffed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.” Laura commented to her boss.

Char nodded, smothering the instinct to cup her own belly as devoted her attention back to her work.

“Hopefully, you won’t have to. We’ll find a way to reverse the process without delivery and things will—“ she paused, startled by a twinge in her stomach muscles and the subsequent squirming of the baby inside her. She cleared her throat. “Things will return to normal and we can take the time to research this phenomenon thoroughly.”

Secretly, Char’s urgency stemmed from another reason—already she’d struggled to adapt to the feeling of her body so unrecognizably changed, the idea of a passenger inside her, her body growing and stretching to accommodate it without any of her say in it. Even the tiniest signs of motherhood she steadfastly resisted, trying not to waddle or hold her heavy mound, wearing her usual lab wear instead of anything more comfortable. Yet—

She knew this was nothing compared to birth. She also knew that they were on a strict time limit. Shaking her head, she dispelled these thoughts. ‘We don’t have to worry about that. All we have to worry about is finding a cure,’ she thought.

“You really think we can find a cure before these babies are born?” Laura asked hesitantly. She knew how her boss was handling this sudden change in their bodies, and it wasn’t very well. Not that she’d admit it. She disappeared quickly into the work when it first started happening to people and completely ignored the signs this morning that it was happening to them both as well.

“I’ve heard that some people are already starting to give birth… we might not have the time. Not before these ones are born anyway.” Laura patted her bump affectionately. She wasn’t fighting this as much as her boss. Yes it was a shock, but Laura was leaning into the experience, it was fascinating.

She noticed her belly start to twinge, felt similar to period pains. Laura shifted in her chair, trying to ease the uncomfortable feeling, her legs widening on the stool to fit her rounded stomach in between. “Have you had any twinges or cramps or anything?” Laura asked.

Char glanced at Laura, absorbing the gravity of her condition, the way her midsection protruded from her open lab coat and her discomfort that so mirrored Char’s own. “Nope,” she lied easily, convincing herself that it was the weight she was now carrying, that the pressure in her hips and the aching of her back was all because of the new load in her belly.

“Well, I’m not exactly hasty to get these babies out the old-fashioned way,” Char said.

A part of her shared sentiments with Laura, though. Call it a scientific curiosity, but the process of birth was quite a marvel. Another cramp seized her belly and she stiffened slightly, bearing it without note. Her own belly hung low, having dropped without her realizing, but Laura’s taut, overhanging swell was immediately apparent to her.

How about you?” She asked while peering into a microscope.

“I’m not sure… I’m feeling something… oof—” Laura took a sharp breath as the ache peaked before easing off again. “It’s probably just my body adjusting to the quick pregnancy. I’m not in a hurry to give birth myself.”

She didn’t want to say it but the rate at which their stomachs had swelled, Laura didn’t think they would have long before the pangs of labor hit. It was difficult to ascertain how “far along” they were, given the speed in the growth, but judging by the bumps alone Laura guessed her and Char were developing at the same rate.

“We better work fast then, before either of us goes into labor.” Or both of us, Laura thought to herself.

Char pressed her lips together at the reminder, and without knowing she palmed the underside of her swollen stomach, attempting to soothe the tightened muscles.

“Yes, right. Could you come over here and we can analyze these lab reports together. Bring the files from the corner bench, please.”

Her back ached, yet she was too restless to sit and besides, she always worked while standing. She’d be damned if she let this baby inside of her intrude on her routine.

“Sure thing.” Laura said to Char’s instruction. Holding her taut stomach, Laura slipped off the stool onto her feet and waddled over to the corner bench to pick up the files.

Standing seemed to have jolted her baby, feeling the weight sink lower into her hips as it kicked. A sudden sharp tightening slashed across her belly causing her to gasp and grab on to the table. “Mnngh!” She groaned as the muscles pulled and squeezed, its intensity surprising.

“Char… hooo… I think I might be having a con-contraction…” Laura panted through the pain, hips instinctively swaying beneath the white lab coat.

Char snapped her head up from the microscope to see Laura doubled over, clutching the table. With her back flat, her weighty belly seemed to strain toward the ground, dragged downward by gravity. Char watched as Laura swayed her hips in an almost hypnotic pattern, as though instinct had taken over. Her panting, even, seemed instinctual, the sounds of an imminent mother.

“Laura? Hey—“ Char struggled to walk without a waddle, across the room to Laura. She was stopped by a squeezing in her tummy that took her breath away, the entire surface hardening painfully. She dismissed it before it even ended. ‘Braxton Hicks,’ she thought. ‘No big deal. I have time…. Laura, I’m not so sure.’

She placed a palm on Laura’s lower back and she breathed and swayed. “You’re okay,” she said, her usual brisk tone softening. “Just breathe.”

“Hoooo-hoooo…..” Laura forced herself to take measured breaths, in and out, breathing through the sudden pain. Her head dipped and her eyes scrunched, the weight and pressure suddenly peaking before gradually fading away. Slowly the assistant straightened back up and faced her friend (?) and boss.

“Jeeze, that was… intense.” She breathed, rubbing the underside of her belly. “I wasn’t expecting that to come on so fast. Guess I’m in labor. I’ll start running a log of all my symptoms so we can add to our research.” She picked up the earlier requested files and handed them to her boss, noticing a slight glistening of sweat on Char’s forehead. “You still doing okay?”

Char nodded, appearing uncharacteristically distracted. She made an effort to straighten her back, feeling the clamping around her womb subside for now.

“Fine,” she said. Then, appreciative of Laura’s dedication to their studies, “Good work, Laura. If it gets to be too much for you, let me know. Until then, we’ll work around the clock and develop a cure before you progress too far.”

And, before I do as well, Char added to herself.

Noting Laura’s significantly widened stance and the way she stroked and circled her dropped belly, Char felt a twinge of apprehensiveness.

As they worked, fighting the clock, Char listened to Laura’s pained breaths become sharper. Eventually she began to vocalize, softly at first, closing her eyes and rocking her body back and forth, making slight grunts and moaning under her breath.

Char wasn’t in a much better state. Her contractions had grown into strong, regular surges and every time her belly seized up she could only focus on it and the baby inside it preparing to be born. Born, she thought. Not if I can help it. Her familiarity with the process and inevitability of birth did nothing to halt this line of thinking. Yet with each contraction she felt like nothing else existed but her swollen, contracting belly. She released a breath after a particularly brutal one. There was so much pressure. She felt it deep in her hips, wanting so badly to open herself up all the way.

Laura let out a pained groan herself, and Char glanced up.

“H-how are you, mm, holding up?” She asked the other laboring woman.

“As w-well as can be expected… hoooo…” Laura held her heavy belly with one hand, the other leant on her workstation as she swayed through the pain. “They are really picking up now Char, oof, the pressure is a lot.”

The lab assistant had abandoned her chair a while ago, finding the most comfortable position was to stand at her desk as it allowed her to follow her body’s rhythm and its instinct to move. Plus the baby was sinking way too low to be sitting down on that ridiculous high stool. She had spent entire days on that chair working before The Spell, but that idea seemed downright ludicrous to Laura now.

Their research seemed to be slow moving, and it wasn’t entirely down to the fact she was in labor, the science just wasn’t providing them with answers, still proving to be a mystery. She’d been keeping track of her contractions, which were getting dangerously closer together and time was running out.

Whilst the waves of pain coursing through her body every five minutes were consuming, Laura wasn’t oblivious to the fact her boss was also struggling. Perhaps it was because of her own labor she could recognise the signs; the way Char kept moving around the lab and never stayed still, her heavy breathing and occasional moan, and the way her hips would shift and bounce when she thought Laura wasn’t looking. Yup, her boss was almost certainly in labor too. But Laura knew better than to ask her outright.

“Are you feeling okay Char? You’ve been on your feet for quite a w-while now..”

Char tried to imagine sitting and found she couldn’t, with the baby dropped so low, the head pressing heavily on her cervix. She knew from the strain in Laura’s voice and her repeated movements around the room that she was feeling the same pressure and slowly increasing urgency. She wanted to moan, openly sway and rotate her hips against the excruciating pressure, to release instinctual grunts with her contractions like Laura. But, not yet. She couldn’t be in active labor.

“Just frustrated,” Char growled. “We’ve barely made progress and this current batch of tests has yielded no results whatsoever…. mmgh!” She winced, closing her mouth so as not to cry out as a contraction clamped her midsection.

“Also,” she added. “I might—urgh, be experiencing some Braxton Hicks.”

“Oh… braxton hicks… okay.” Laura acknowledged calmly, knowing full well there was nothing false about the pains plaguing Char. “Just try and b-breathe through them. They’ll soon pass. You can move around you know, follow your body’s instincts if you need to, I’m sure it would help with the, errr—false labor pains.”

They continued working in relative silence, except from the unusual noises Laura found herself making through the pains. She thought she heard her boss whimper, and asked “Is there anything I can do to h-help?”

Not that she was capable of doing much, the pains were so strong now she could barely do anything other than catch her breath between waves. Laura stayed close to her work bench, not daring to move too far for fear she’d crumble to the floor. Her bump hung heavy and low off her hips, her baby was pressing hard against her cervix clearly marking its exit. A particularly forceful contract had Laura folded over against the bench, forearms on the white surface, hips jutting back, and her head buried in the crook of her elbow. Her groans had turned more primal, the pressure building to the point she almost mooed like a cow. Something was slipping down, she could feel it. With a grunt Laura felt something give and the immediate dampness that followed trailing down her leg.

“Ummm… Char? Hoooo… I think my water broke.” Laura whimpered into her arm, not daring to move.

Char turned when she heard Laura’s animalistic groans and grunts, undeniably the noises of a woman deep in labor. She saw Laura standing wide-legged, a wet patch forming on her lab trousers and puddling the floor beneath her. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, and Char knew she was feeling the same pressure against her widening cervix as herself, increasingly overcome with the sensation of the head moving into position, the instinctive need to open herself up for the baby getting ready to come out of her.

“Laura—! Hooo um, okay,” Char faltered, taking large waddling steps to Laura and cursing the weight in her pelvis and the unwieldiness of her belly. .Normally in control of the situation, she felt lost at the sight of Laura’s waters puddled on the floor. This was an uncontrollable variable. No matter how much they wanted to keep their babies in, once their bodies decided it was time there was little they could do. But Char wasn’t ready to give in yet.

“I’ll, mmgh, find you some towels,” she promised Laura.

In the hallway she suffered another contraction, and found herself vocalizing freely without Laura around, lowing insistently and arching her back. Without knowing, her knees bent slightly, beginning to sink into a squat. She realized what she was doing and tried to hold herself upright against the hallway wall, but by then the contraction was upon her and she felt a sudden burst of fluid from between her legs.

“Oh…. shit,” she murmured, panting hard.

When she returned with the towels, she met Laura’s gaze and knew that they were both feeling the urgency of birth. They were almost out of time.

The contraction had waned when Char left the room and Laura slowly righted herself and breathed quietly, taking stock of the situation, letting her body adjust and working with the new sensations. The baby was definitely on its way, there was no doubt about that. The breaking of her waters had helped ease the excruciating pressure which had been building, but Laura became more keenly aware of the shape of the baby in her womb without its cushioning.

Taking deep and steady breaths, Laura tried to calm her mind and body. It was during this almost meditative state that she heard the unmissable sound of a woman in deep labor from the corridor. She knew exactly who it was.

Char was a very methodical woman, set in her ways, but she was strong and determined which was a necessity in this field of work. Laura respected her immensely. But it was no surprise to the assistant that her boss was fighting this and seemingly was fighting it to the very end. At some point Char would admit she was in labor, she would have to if she was going to birth her baby. Laura just hoped she would be able to help Char through it when the time comes, and not be consumed by her own birth.

When Char came back she was flushed and sweaty, but gritted a smile as she passed Laura a towel. Laura noticed her boss kept one for herself… strange.

Laura threw the towel on the floor and used her foot to wipe the liquid that was now puddled at her feet. Her trousers were wet but she didn’t want to take them off, she might have known Char for years but wasn’t quite ready to be walking around half naked in front of her boss.

“This baby is definitely coming, I can feel its head right down in my pelvis.” Laura announced, cupping the underside of her large swell almost trying to hold it up. “How are you holding up Char through your… practice contractions?”

Even without her announcing it, Char could tell how close Laura was to birthing her baby, her stance and dropped belly unmistakable as signs of her imminent birth. Laura, she knew, was dependable, and though Char would rarely admit it, she relied on Laura and her stability and her easier personality tended to balance Char’s own stubbornness. Her patience was beginning to wear Char down, and she almost admitted then. The head was huge against her dilated cervix, and she could feel it oriented, ready to descend. Everything was moving painfully downwards. She could no longer even pinch her knees together, so wide was her gait. It felt as if the baby would drop out of her if she spread too wide.

“I-I think I’m, I’m in—“ Char was cut off by another contraction, doubling over with an urgent grunt, so unlike her normally composed and cool attitude. “Ohhhh,” she moaned, closing her eyes. She gritted her teeth, eyes squeezed shut as the contraction began to peak and she clutched blindly at her rigid, taut belly.

“Oh Char…” Laura said, waddling over to her boss, keeping one hand on a bench for support. “I think you’re in labor, hun.”

Char was completely doubled over, clutching her large and heavy belly, and grunting wildly. There was no way she could keep denying her situation now surely. Laura put a hand on Char’s back and rubbed up and down her spine in support. “It’s okay, just breathe through the contraction. Slowly, don’t panic, in and o-outttt…”

Laura was cut off by a contraction of her own, and without her waters it was aggressive and forceful. She immediately spun around, grabbing the nearest bench, and groaned deeply as she fell into a slight squat. The baby was slamming against her cervix, squeezing its way into her birth canal, and Laura had no choice but to push with the force of the contraction.

She tried not to panic, to stay calm, but the head filling her canal was almost making her nauseous. She wanted to tell Char but couldn’t speak, not that her boss could do anything as she was dealing with a contraction of her own right now. The only option left was to ride the wave, and follow her instincts.

Over the din of her own uncontrollable noises Char could hear Laura’s straining groans as she bore down fiercely, primal with the urgency of a birthing mother. Char tried to change her posture but the feeling of the baby descending, pressing down forcefully against her cervix was too much for her to bear standing, and she clasped her hands on her thighs as she squatted, desperate for relief. The contraction peaked, and though she tried to control her breathing, sucking in air at first, by the ends of her breaths she found herself grunting slightly. She gave a gasp, realizing that she was pushing. No! No, no! She thought desperately. You’re a scientist. This is your lab, and you have control. Try as she might, it was impossible to assert control over her laboring body. Her baby was coming, and she was pushing. Still, she tried to resist the urge to push, panting and blowing as the pressure grew and her back flared with pain.

Laura’s contraction seemed to subside a little before Char’s, and Char saw her belly visibly heave as her uterine muscles relaxed. She let out a grunt as the contraction released her. They made eye contact as Char’s contraction began to fade as well. Char shifted her gaze.

“We…. w-we,” she panted, trying to regain her breath. “We have to find this cure. Right now.”

“Char…. Even if we do find a c-cure… what do you t-think is going to happen?” Laura said sternly as she heaved herself back to standing. “These babies,” she patted her bump and also Char’s for effect, “are coming and no cure is going to make them disappear.”

Laura had seen the way Char literally squatted to the ground and pushed, and her clothes were also damp on her bottom half. “I’m saying this as both your friend and colleague, you are in labor just as much as I, and we should prepare for their arrival.”

Laura waddled awkwardly, bowlegged, back to her desk and grabbed a drink of water. Still panting after the latest contraction, she picked up a pen and carried on making notes. “I’ll help you as much as I can, noting everything down about this rapid pregnancy, tracking my symptoms and experience, but we’re going to be giving birth soon. Both of us.”

Char glared weakly as Laura patted her belly. She’d known Laura to be one of her only lab partners to actually stand up to her or challenge her, but even then she was firmly gentle. This was no different except of course so steeped in labor herself Laura had a bit more edge to her, biting just a little. She knew how Laura was feeling. Their babies were so low, pushing heavily into their canals and forcing their bodies to deliver, and she wanted nothing more to stop what she was doing right now, squat down, and let it come. Magic or science, Char and Laura were experiencing their most natural, primal instincts.

But—she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. No, this was HER body. An intruding passenger wouldn’t change that, even as it inched its way through her birth canal and demanded she work hard and concentrate on nothing but pushing it out. Char made a laborious effort to straighten somewhat, though her stance wasn’t much narrower than Laura’s own bowlegged waddle.

“Not, urgh, yet,” Char said. “I’m not having this baby. Mmm…. hoo, I’m grateful to you, Laura, for holding it together for this long. But you n-need to deliver. Please, don’t burden yourself. I’ll finish this cure on my—hmnh, hm. My own.”

She painstakingly toddled to her research table, lifting the hefty weight of her belly as though it would keep the baby from dropping any further.

“Okay, do whatever you wanna do Char.” Laura resigned herself to losing this argument. Her boss was determined but this was next level, bordering on complete denial. Well if Char was feeling even half the sensations Laura was, she’d succumb to this birth soon enough.

Laura needed to prepare for the imminent birth, her recent pushing was a sure sign the baby was close. Slowly, and whilst always holding on to something, the assistant rummaged through the drawers and cupboards in the lab. “Do we have anything we could use for clamps to cut the cord?” She asked aloud, not really expecting an answer from her disgruntled colleague. “Ah, this could work.”

She collected the equipment she’d need to clamp and cut the chord on her desk, and moved the towel on the floor with her feet again mopping up the new liquid that she’d trailed across the floor, not realizing she was still leaking. “I’m gonna go get some more towels.” Laura again spoke aloud but knew her boss had disappeared into her own world.

Laura barely made it to the doorway when another contraction struck, and damn they were close together. Her fingers gripped the wooden frame as her body sank downwards again, the pressure building and building between her legs. “Mnnnghhhhhhhh!!!” Laura grunted, muscles contracting and squeezing the large head further through the birth canal, to the point she could feel herself start to open slightly. “Nghhhhhhh the head…. I can feel it…” Laura mewled as she squatted.

Char listened to Laura’s preparations in the background, doing her best to tune out both Laura’s words and the feeling of a massive head lodged in her birth canal, stretching her from within. Her legs trembled, nearly buckled even without a contraction. She resented herself for pushing but knew from her last contraction that she wouldn’t be able to help from bearing down again. The urge to push, the pressure, it was blurring her vision, and her head pounded dizzyingly. A mantra repeated in her head: ‘Hold it in. Just hold it in a little longer.’ Her stomach felt like a hard stone weighing on her middle even without a contraction. She tried to focus, pulling herself into a chemical analysis of her own birthing fluids she’d swabbed from the towel.

Suddenly, she heard Laura’s loud grunting and her attention was drawn to the doorway to see her assistant bent and squatted, pushing hard into her trousers. She felt a tug of concern.

“Laura? Hun, you okay—?”

The head, she thought. Oh god, she’s still wearing her work trousers.

Before she could even take a single step towards Laura, she felt another contraction grip her. “Oooof,” she grunted deeply. Her knees began to give out and she was forced into a squat even as she tried to remain standing. Gripping the table for dear life, she groaned and growled. Don’t push, she thought. Don’t—

“Ohhhh.” The head shifted down. Her powerful internal muscles shoved it through. “OH—I’m—I-I’m pushinggggg, mmmmgh!”

Laura was consumed by the sensations thrumming through her entire body, it was as if something primal was happening to her - new and unfamiliar, completely out of her control, and yet her body seemed to know what to do. Her knees widened and she sunk deeper into the squat, opening her hips as much as she could. Leaning into the contraction, using it, Laura pushed the heavy weight down. It felt… productive. She knew it was what she should be doing.

The location wasn’t ideal, and she hoped she still had time to collect more towels and set up a more comfortable birthing area. But whilst the contraction raged, Laura submitted to it, letting it work her baby down, slipping further and further towards its exit.

Somewhere in the distance she heard her name being called. After a long push Laura gulped a breath and turned her head to see Char squatting at her desk and crying out that she was pushing. She would laugh if her body hadn’t forced her into another push.

They needed to get set up and quick, Char looked like she was suffering just as much as Laura was. When the contraction waned just a bit, Laura stopped pushing and somehow managed to haul her body back to standing. Char looked okay, well as she could given the situation, riding out a contraction and holding on to the sturdy frame of her workbench.

“I’m getting more towels, hang on Char!” Laura shouted, hoping her boss would hear over the groans Char was making.

Waddling ever so slowly, the head sitting right behind her lips, Laura went off to the cupboard to find more towels. They’d soon need them.

Another contraction struck mere minutes after the last while Laura was in the cupboard but she was not as successful this time in staying on her feet. The force of the contracting muscles and slashing pain splitting her open brought her to her knees. She clung on to the shelf in front of her, her heavy belly squished between widened thighs, and she pushed hard wailing with the effort. The head was peaking through, pushing apart her folds in her underwear. But her body was driving this journey, Laura was just the passenger. After a solid minute the contraction let up and when she released the push with a gasp, the baby slipped back into the birth canal. With a trembling hand she felt the fabric between her legs, she was definitely bulging, but the head wasn’t crowning just yet. She breathed deeply, gathering her strength before getting back on her feet. She needed to get back with the extra towels, not just so she could birth her baby there but so she could help Char. She’d need a friend and the support right now, and so could Laura.

As Laura submitted, pushing freely and loudly as though nothing else mattered in the world except getting her baby out and getting it out now, Char resisted her baby’s inevitable birth. Panicked, she gulped in a breath, trying to ease up on her furious pushing as she felt the head filling her opening thoroughly. It was beginning to bulge her, though her lips remained shut. The pressure and incredible sensation of the head sitting low at her opening, almost ready to exit, was almost too much to bear. She mooed deeply, from the back of her throat. Her belly tightened even harder than before, squeezing her like a vice and she couldn’t help but push again. The baby strained against her opening, and she could feel her most delicate area distending obscenely.

“Oh god!” She cried, throwing her head back as her thighs spread and she pushed again and again uncontrollably. The urge was undeniable. She was subject to her body and right now, it was telling her to birth her baby. Here, now, into her trousers. She felt helpless. Out of control.

“It’s coming,” she moaned. “Ohhh, it’s coming!” She knew this deeply, intuitively, with an age-old maternal instinct. She was ready to birth her baby. But she felt alone and vulnerable.

“Laura,” she gasped, couldn’t say much more than that. “Laura, oh god, it’s coming and I’m pushing! I need to hold it in! Just a little longer!”

She could hear Char’s wailing from the corridor, becoming fast apparent the lead technician was losing her fight against the inevitable. With one arm carrying a load of towels, the other hand pressed against the wall as she waddled heavily back to the office. On walking into the room she saw her friend and colleague in a deep squat, white-knuckling the work bench, chin to chest and pushing. Loudly.

“Oh Char, it’s okay hun.” Laura shut the door behind her and dropped the towels beside her friend. “You have to breathe as well as push darling.” She said as she staggered to her own workbench and grabbed the medical supplies she’d collected. With the baby playing peek-a-boo into her underwear, Laura knew their time was almost up.

Cumbersomely, Laura got down to her knees beside her boss, putting the clamps and scissors on the pile of towels. “Shhhhh it’s okay Char, don’t fight it. Use that contraction and push with the pain.” Laura rubbed a hand up and down Char’s back, trying her best to support and encourage through this.

Unfortunately with their labors progressing in tandem, Laura’s role as carer was snatched away when the next contraction tore its way across her midsection. Instinctively, without intending to, her body was pushing with the pain and she could feel the baby start to leak through again and stretch apart her lips. She went to all fours and rocked, sinking backwards towards her heels whenever she had to bear down.

“Mnnnnghhhhhhh! Come on baby….” She groaned before gasping another breath and pushing hard again. She didn’t care that she was still in her work clothes, or that she was on the floor of a laboratory that was covered with two lots of amniotic fluid, she was simply following her instincts and soon the baby stopped slipping back in and stayed, keeping her lips in a perfect oval shape.

“Ohhhh god… I think it’s starting to c-crownnnn….” The assistant managed to huff when the contraction eventually dulled.

Char’s belly refused to fully relax at this point, now constantly flexing with forceful surging contractions, but there were brief moments of respite where she could pause in her pushing and some awareness returned to her. Laura, she realized, was beginning to tent her pants with pushing, on all fours with her back arched and her hips shoved forward, trying to make as much room for the large crowning head as possible. She was pushing the head into her clothes, Char realized, bulging them ridiculously, and between her spread thighs more fluids dripped and leaked. At the same time she processed this she realized that her own clothes had never been discarded, but she made no effort to remove them in her precious few moments before her body would force her baby further out of her. Instead she clung onto the naive hope that she’d miraculously stumble upon a cure while crowning into her pants, feeling the head beginning to press up against her underwear and part her lips slightly. Laura, she could tell, had offered less resistance to her body and had made more progress in her pushing, the head sitting permanently, she calculated from the bulge in Laura’s pants, at around a half-crown or more.

“Hey,” she croaked hoarsely, barely able to manage anything but grunts with her clenching belly. “You—you need to get your pants down, hun. Head’s coming out.”

Painstakingly, she began to squat down, moaning as the head was pressed back slightly into her sensitive lips by the tension of her underwear. It felt so low, so full, she needed to open up, she needed to push, relieve the immense pressure, yet her friend, yes friend, not just assistant, needed her. As she squatted low, she hooked her fingers around Laura’s waistline.

“I need, urgh, I need you to get your legs together. Mmmm, we gotta get your pants off, ‘kay?”

She was surprised to see Char moving in her peripheral vision, but Laura could pay no mind, for this baby wanted out and it wanted out now.

“Grhhhhh!!! It’s coming out… mnghh!” Laura cried into the next push, bearing down and feeling the head stretch her wider and wider. Her hips were so full, her pelvis felt like it could snap, the pressure of this baby’s head - this large and heavy mass - *needed* to come out.

Char’s attempt to remove her trousers was fruitless, though the black fabric was stretchy and comfortable with the expanding of her stomach, it was not elasticated enough to be pulled over the wide angle of her legs. The baby sat so low, right at her entrance, stretching her entrance wide with the emerging crown. There was no way in hell she would be able to put her legs closer together.

Instead, she widened them further. “Hmngh! Can’t… baby… coming…I have to pushhhh-mnghhhh!” Laura’s face sunk towards the floor, dropping to her elbows and opening up her hips to the skies. It was coming out, she could feel it sliding slowly out of her into her stretchy clothing. All she could do was push…. Pant and push again.

Char watched in utter fascination as Laura pushed with total abandonment, entirely consumed with the baby coming out of her, every last thought focused on the overwhelming, intense, undeniable urge to push. The bulge in Laura’s pants grew, stretched her thinly and Char could scarcely believe that such a huge head could come from her, pass through such a narrow opening with so much force. She removed her fingers from Laura’s waistline, realizing the impossibility of such a task at this stage in Laura’s labor. She was pushing it out into her pants, and there was nothing Char could do about that except cup the growing bulge as it emerged from Laura’s opening into the straining fabric.

It was terrifying, watching Laura push without regard for anything else. As she felt a powerful contraction wrack her own reddened, exhausted belly, she knew there was no stopping this. She was giving birth and was about to push a baby out into her pants exactly as Laura was doing now. She growled fiercely, deep in her squat—the perfect position. Her knees jackknifed and she opened her hips as wide as they could go. Against her opening the fabric of her underwear arched with the coming head as she bore down immensely. Her face turned bright red with her hardest push yet.

“Oh GODDDD!” She bellowed. “It’s COMING, I’m pushing it OOUUUTTTT!”

Her lips parted, wider and wider, trembling and convulsing around the head as it burned and stretched her. She jerked, trying to escape the ring of fire and yet she couldn’t stop pushing for a minute. She was in the final stages now, and the only way the burn would stop was when she had pushed her baby into the world. Instinct took over completely. This was what her body needed her to do. This was what SHE needed to do.

Even though they were consumed with their own births, Laura found comfort that at least they were together through this. Each laboring woman was not alone.

But the strength required to birth these babies, who didn’t even exist 24 hours ago, would be down to the mother. Gasping for air Laura pushed again with everything she had, through the pressure and pain and the burning ring of fire that had her mouth open in a silent scream. The baby’s head had to be almost out by now, surely!?

Despite being beside each other Char’s bellowing voice seemed so far away to Laura. Nothing else registered beside the baby being born into her pants. She growled with another push and suddenly yelped when the head slipped fully out.

“Oh my god oh my god…” Laura muttered over and over and pushed herself back up on her knees. She scrambled at the waistband of her elasticated trousers and pulled them down to her knees along with her underwear. Her baby, she had to get to her baby, the maternal instinct cried in her head. With a trembling hand she felt the newly born baby’s head that was now wedged between her thighs. “Hi…. baby… oh my gosh you’ve got hair!” Laura was in shock, but also in awe of what her body had just done.

It was only after the head was born that Laura properly heard the cries of her friend. “Char…” she muttered and saw the other woman squatting and huffing, red-faced, chin to chest, with an obscene bulge protruding from her clothes between her wide legs.

“Oh my god Char! Your baby is coming out!”

Had Char any piece of mind she might have answered with her customary sarcasm: oh really? I wouldn’t have guessed. Instead, the only sound that emerged from her mouth was a long lowing wail that only deepened and became more guttural as the head filled her bottom so thoroughly, and it felt as though her pelvis was creaking open to allow the massive head through. She opened slowly, barely pausing to take a breath as she bore down without repose. Dimly, she was aware of Laura’s own baby dangling between her thighs, having pushed the huge head out, and with renewed efforts Char grunted the head further and further out. Her lips tautened and thinned, red with the stretch. The head reached a full crown and for a moment Char pushed and it didn’t move, solid mass wedged tightly in her opening. She gasped, scared for a moment that it was too big, that there was no way she could push something of this size out of her body.

Then she heard Laura cooing to the head between her legs, and something stirred within her. She realized that the dread she’d been facing was being replaced with something like motherhood, her body responding naturally, automatically, to Laura’s awe and wonder. Char realized that she wanted to meet this thing she had carried inside her for a mere twenty-four hours.

“C’mon BABYYYYY!” She shouted, bearing down furiously. Her lips slipped around the head, and then—with a splash of fluids and a grunt of relief, Char freed the head into her pants.

Laura watched in fascination as Char grunted the head further and further into her clothing, it was huge. Char had been fighting this throughout the entire pregnancy and in that moment Laura understood why some women balked so much away from birth. It was hard work. But then she saw a change in her friend, the way her eyebrows furrowed with determination, the slight readjustment of her hips as she took a breath; she was no longer fighting against her body and was readying herself to meet her child.

“You can do it Char, push!” Laura called as Char bore down. She wished she could move to support her friend physically but she was still mid-way through her own rapid birth to risk moving.

Tears begun to well in her eyes at the thought of their babies, the exhaustion of labor and the stress of the last 24 hours hammering her emotions.

By the time Char had birthed the head of her baby into her pants Laura was already feeling the pangs of the next contraction and the baby’s head turned slightly in the palm of her hand. “Oohhhhh… mhhh okay okay… you ready little one?” She panted, pulling in air through her nose, widening her legs apart to steady her balance and preparing herself to push again. Both hands were between her legs when the contraction really got going and all too soon she was pushing once more and felt the shoulders stretch apart her already sore lips.

With trembling fingers, Char reached down between her legs, feeling the hard slick roundness of the head she’d just pushed out between her legs. She gasped. The aftershocks of her contraction clutched at her belly.

“Oh… oh, my—that’s a baby. I just gave birth.”

The evidence was conclusive. But she could scarcely believe that she’d pushed an entire baby through her birth canal and out into her pants. The experience she’d just been through, the effort, the haze of contractions and the hard pushes as she focused on nothing but expelling her baby, and the intense sensations throughout her body. It was all unbelievable. Inching down the waistband of her trousers, Char struggled them to her shins and sank to her knees. She panted in disbelief, feeling instinctually that this was *right,* that this was what she was meant to be doing. Her identity had irreconcilably changed to that of a mother and as she caressed the head between her legs, she felt a rush of contentment. Char was a scientist, an expert in her field, but now it all paled in comparison.

She glanced up at Laura, seeing her shock and awe mirrored in her eyes as she lifted her baby from between her legs and rested it against her chest. Laura smiled exhaustedly at her.

Char began to pant as another contraction took hold.

“Ooh—“ she exclaimed. “You’re ready…. c’mon, you’re ready to be—UGH! BORN!”

Her baby slipped between her lips with a spray of fluids and immediately she sank to the floor, sighing in immense relief.

Laura fell silent with her final pushes, holding her breath as she bore down, the head filling her palm as the shoulders squeezed their way through. She gasped another breath and pushed with everything she had, this was it, she could feel it. Come on baby…

Once the shoulders were freed Laura wasn’t expecting the speed of which the baby slipped out and the hush of fluid that came with it. Catching the slippery newborn Laura gasped, relieved and shocked, and immediately brought the babe to her chest.

“Hey…. Oh my- hey baby.” She cooed, eyes welling with tears as she looked upon this little miracle that had grown in the last 24 hours. When the baby started to cry she instinctively rocked and hushed the infant “it’s okay… you’re okay.” She said, wiping the blood and fluid off the newborn's face.

Laura had barely caught her breath back when Char started pulling down her trousers and panted heavily, a baby’s head hanging between her open legs. A second later Char was mirroring Laura’s actions and pulling her own baby to her chest and sobbing with relief.

“You did it.” Laura said softly to her friend. “We did it. I can’t believe they’re real, we just had babies.”

The Spell might currently be a scientific mystery, but as the two women sat exhausted on the floor cradling their newborns, the research could wait. For now, the scientists were in awe of the new lives they’d just birthed.

Crowded Street

               “Wow, you look like you’re ready to start pushing that thing out any second now!”

               The voice came from right next to me as I walked down the street, and somehow I knew that they were addressing me. I spun toward where I could swear it had come from, but found only the sea of faces that was the busy street on a weekend. I tried to find someone looking too smug, someone suspicious, but everything was just a press of color and noise.

               I shook my head, trying to dismiss the throwaway words that shouldn’t have been bothering me to this degree. I passed by a store window, and took a moment to examine myself. Nope, no pregnant belly here, just like it was this morning. Just a five-foot-five seventeen-year-old girl, a few months into my senior year, my midsection largely flat, though with just a bit of softness to it.

               I took a moment to appreciate my appearance, as I’d been feeling especially attractive since I got out of the shower this morning. My B cups breasts were especially perky, my skin a pleasant, warm shade of brown, my black hair still short as we entered fall. I was wearing a cute t shirt, skinny jeans, and a nice pair of shoes. All said I wasn’t exactly sexy, but I felt pretty darn cute. I didn’t normally pride myself of my appearance, but… today had felt special.

               Still… that quick phrase still wouldn’t leave my mind. I didn’t know why someone would say that, they must have just been trying to be jerks. I continued walking down the street, looking through windows and just enjoying the sounds of the bustling crowd around me.

               I just couldn’t shake this strange feeling, however, no matter how much I tried to distract myself. An odd tension deep inside at the core of my being, like something was being pulled at or stretched. As I kept up my wandering it steadily got stronger, until I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I walked into a store and found a quiet corner, then lifted my shirt, trying to make sure everything was ok.

               The dark skin of my formerly flat belly was protruding, just a teeny bit. It was barely noticeable, and I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t just letting my mind play tricks on me with how anxious I felt. Then, I gasped as a strange cramp tightened its grip on me. I actually could see my muscles tighten, my form pulling in on itself, toward my center.

               “Wh-what the hell was that?” I whispered to myself, after the squeezing pain faded. “It was like… No, that’s impossible. I’m obviously not pregnant, I’ve never even had sex. There’s no way I’m having contractions. That would be silly. It must just be a stomach ache or something.”

               Dismissing the mounting tightness I could feel faintly starting to build once more, I smoothed out my shirt over my strongly hard-feeling midriff and left, focusing on enjoying the rest of my shopping.

               Bit by bit, things kept getting stranger, and the words from that unseen person refused to leave my mind. I kept having cramps. They weren’t very close together or particularly strong, but they growing in strength, and the time between was shrinking with each one. They were still quite some time apart, and I could mostly just tough through them, but… I really wished the spasms would stop. I tried to figure out what I’d eaten that could have made my stomach so upset.

               That, and what was causing this much bloating. Even more subtly than the annoying cramps, the tiny bump in my midriff began to swell. I kept unconsciously reaching down and fiddling with the hem of my shirt as it began to be tugged up over my growing belly. The bulge was beneath my navel, just above my pubic mound, but it seemed to be growing up just as much as out. I could feel the… what had to be gas, taking up more space, stretching and tugging at my muscles, causing me to expand more as time went on.

               My shirt was tugged up over my increasingly impossible to ignore condition. At first my dark brown skin was barely peeking out from under the pastel colored cloth, but it wasn’t long before the sliver had grown until more of the alarming bulge was showing than not.

               The cramps were getting worse and more frequent as well. I began to feel a strange pressure inside me, something pushing down relentlessly. As the spasms got stronger, so too did that feeling of something just PUSHING, unendingly, trying to… I don’t know what.

               Over the course of hours, as I tried to deny and ignore that anything was abnormal, my navel was inched to the front of my impressively swollen midsection. From there, my bellybutton was gradually pulled flat, before being forced outward by whatever was filling me.

               Worse, the cramps were getting impossible to ignore. They were getting strong enough that I had to stop moving when they clamped down, forcing myself to control my breathing, holding my rock-hard orb and inhaling through my nose, out through my mouth.

               My chest had been swelling as well. I started to feel wetness, but decided not to investigate. Whatever was happening, it was secondary to this allergic reaction. Furthermore, between my legs was… well… sensitive. I could feel my panties against my feminine lips, and as I continued waddling through the busy streets, the feeling of my underwear dragging against my damp privates was increasingly difficult to ignore.

               Finally, I was huffing in forced breaths as another powerful spasm gripped me in an iron grasp, the feeling of something big pressing hard deep within me. I was overwhelmed, scared. I didn’t want to call the hospital, scared of what they would tell me. Scared of what they would do, or make me do.

               I couldn’t, I couldn’t be a mother, I was a virgin, had never even had a boyfriend. And worse, the local school system made you drop out if you got pregnant, something about increasing the quality of parents for the next generation or something dumb like that. It always seemed to backwards and ignorant, but it seemed easy to avoid dealing with. Just don’t get knocked up. But this… it felt like…

               No. It was impossible. This didn’t just HAPPEN, not just because someone said something weird to you on the street. This was a dream, or something unrelated, this couldn’t be…

               “I’ve been watching you all day. You’ve been doing so good, you’re so beautiful.” That same voice, coming from… damnit, why couldn’t I figure out where it was coming from, it was like it was in three opposite directions! “No point in fighting or denying it anymore hon, you know what’s about to happen, what you’re about to become. I’m sure you’ll do a marvelous job raising your newborn. Now just give in and let it happen. Let your baby be born.

               “Push mommy.”

               I opened my mouth to reply, to snarl out a denial or an insult, but all I managed to do was wail in fear and pain as a contraction ripped across my life-filled belly, and a quiet pop came from inside me. Seconds later, clear fluid poured from my over-sensitive girlhood, soaking my underwear, my tight jeans, dripping down my thighs and making a strong smelling puddle beneath me.

               I slowly dropped to my knees as people walked passed, giving me strange looks as I gulped in panicked breaths, feeling my cervix being forced wider by the head of the baby that shouldn’t be there. I was probably fully dilated, I’d been in labor ever since this thing had even started to grow inside me.

               I couldn’t believe it, this was impossible, this COULDN’T have happened, not to me, not like this! But once more, a powerful cramp rippled across my aching, drum tight womb, and I felt the primal need that most women experience in their life. The need to open my legs wide and push. The need to give birth.

               It was irresistible, undeniable, but I fought it a little longer. I reached down a trembling hand, tugging at the zipper of my jeans, the snap having popped open quite some time ago without me even realizing it. Gripping the edges of the fabric, I struggled to get my pants and panties down, to clear the way for my unasked for offspring.

               I tried to breathe through the next relentless spasm, but couldn’t help pushing slightly, feeling the head sliding into my birth canal as I moaned. Down, over my thighs, to my knees, I tugged my clothes down. I had intended to fully remove them, but just as I sat back and fumbled with my shoes it all became too much. Sitting back, being forced to open my legs wide as my soaked jeans and undies slipped down my skin, feeling the breeze on my naked, swollen, overheated gender, I only managed to get my shoes off before I had to give in utterly to my feminine nature.

               My socks still on my feet, pants and panties around my ankles, my dark skin glistening with sweat and birthing fluids, I began to push with the overwhelming pain, throwing my head back and screaming at both the horrible sensations and how helpless I had been made.

               Now people were staring. They took in my teenage body with appreciative murmurs or grumbling contempt, muttering about another idiot teen who couldn’t keep her legs closed putting on another slutty show, or groaning that this was so sexy, that they‘ve never seen a black girl push out a baby before, that they couldn’t wait.

               I knew nobody would call the hospital. That’s not how things were done here. I myself had watched classmates that I’d looked down on for their ignorance, screaming in pain and fear as they gave in to their need to push out their baby, or dropped into a deep squat and started laying a clutch of eggs. Had laughed and sneered along with every else, even sometimes found parts of it a bit hotter than I wanted to admit to myself.

               Now it was me trying to pull my ankles apart, thighs quivering as I struggled to deliver for the enjoyment of a judgmental crowd, exposed and ashamed and confused at how I ended up here like this. Tears of embarrassment ran down my face as I felt the head slipping down my tunnel, gasping as I felt it starting to strain against my hymen.

               I knew that by the time Monday rolled around, everyone at school will have watched me give birth in front of the maternity clothing store in the shopping district. All my friends and enemies will have watched my own unwanted baby take my virginity as it emerged, which it was doing right now.

               I shook my head as I fought my own body, the force of my labor putting even more strain of the fragile skin, a sharp ache radiating from within me. But at last it was too much, and I had to give in, shrieking in shame and pain as my maidenhead tore around the massive head of the thing inside me.

               The next big push made good progress as I grunted, fingers curling into tight fists as I tried to get this awful ordeal done and over with, knowing that every push brought me closer to motherhood, closer to being expelled, closer to my life being ruined forever. But I couldn’t even begin to resist, not anymore. As the contraction ended, I could feel the head resting just behind my slit, the skin straining.

               I could hear the voices again, whispering that I was bulging, that the head must be huge, that this was unbelievably sexy. I reached down, cupping my gender and feeling the hot, damp, oversensitive skin. I was stretched tight, on the very cusp of opening, it would just take one more big push.

               I didn’t want to be a mommy.

               I had no choice but to become a mommy.

               I had to push.

               My toes curled within my socks, and I cried out in agony and defeat as I began to feel a fiery ache burn over my feminine lips. My gender was opening, parting in a teardrop shape, my clit within its hood resting just over the thinnest part, the head becoming visible between my legs.

               I gulped in air as people reacted to this latest development, cameras flashing and rendering every exposed inch of my dark skin perfectly illuminated for all. Another terrible contraction, another helpless push, and the teardrop began to warp out of shape. My slit was spreading into a massive, agonizing circle as the ring of fire grew, my girlhood opening wide to try and pass the head.

               I sobbed, begging people not to look, or to help, or to do anything but watch eagerly as I fought to give birth. But nobody lifted a finger, only capturing every traumatic moment of my most vulnerable and helpless moment for everyone to see, making what was already an ordeal a million times worse.

               Crying out, I bore down once more, my ankles straining against the tough fabric as I tried to open my legs even wider, the head inching forward. I was crowning, my child was going to be born weather I wanted it or not. It was inevitable, it was now impossible for me to escape motherhood. All I could do was give in and push.

               I could feel my lips straining. I was going too fast, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible, not giving myself time to stretch. But it hurt so bad, I couldn’t hold back, couldn’t just wait while more all-powerful spasms held me, trying to fight my primal instinct to birth.

               I could hear people gasping as my unasked for offspring continued forward, my gender getting tighter as more of my baby crowned. I could feel a powerful throbbing ache at the base of my girlhood, and knew what was coming. The throbbing became stabs of pain as the skin struggled to compensate as I continued bearing down relentlessly, not resting, not trying to fight it.

               And then… I screamed in fear and agony as I felt myself tear. My poor virgin gender, starting to rip as the thing I’d been forced to gestate made its way from my body. From there, another push forced the wound to grow slightly. Then I gasped in some air before making it even worse when the need to push came back.

               I had so much further to go than I thought. I was being pulled so wide, I couldn’t bear it, the tear was inching down toward my anus, some people were asking if they should get me help, but others seemed to think this was even more exciting. I was sure this was it, there was no way I could do this, no way I could survive, the head would never be out, I would just push and push and never be done, never give birth…

               And then, at long last, the agonizing pressure of my feminine slit being held beyond its limits faded. With a gush of fluid, the head slipped forward. I had gotten the head out. It was almost over, finally.

               I laid back for a bit, recovering some energy, moaning in discomfort as the body rotated within me. Then, once more, it was time.

               The shoulders were even wider. One big push, and they were straining my opening, just behind my skin. Another, and I could feel I was right on the cusp of getting this thing out of me at long last. Then… I shrieked as my wound grew one last time, the shoulders slipping from my girlhood in a hot, wet surge of motion, the rest of the child following immediately after.

               Someone called “It’s a girl!” I’m not sure if that made it better or worse. If it was a boy, then it would be some monster that would hurt another girl just like I’d been hurt. But a little girl will someday go through this same thing. It was only a matter of time before someone forced her to become a mommy too, weather she wanted it or not.

               Sobbing, I realized I couldn’t bear the thought of someone hurting my little baby girl, even if I hadn’t wanted her, been raging at how she was ruining my life only a few moments ago. My maternal instincts were kicking in with unnatural strength, probably as part of whatever terrible magic had forced me to endure this in the first place. I tried to resist, but at last, I reached down, picking up my baby.

               She was… she was beautiful. I could tell she looked just like me. My eyes traced the cord protruding from the tiny things bellybutton, following it down in between my legs. She came from me… she was mine…

               My baby…

               I was a mommy…

               I tugged my shirt and bra off, sitting almost entirely exposed on the sidewalk now, my pants and panties around my ankles and my socks the closest thing I had to clothing still being on. My daughter latched onto my swollen, sensitive breast immediately, and feeling the child I’d gone through so much to deliver drink from me, knowing I was feeding her, nurturing her…

               I hated what the hormones were doing to me, hated what all of this meant. The world began to spin as I heard people at last calling the ambulance. I scooted to the wall and leaned against it, holding my newborn little girl to my breast as she continued suckling, and let myself fade away. I would likely wake up in the hospital, all stitched up and surrounded by angry, judgmental people. But for now… for now, I could rest.

)———-

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💕 Thinking about someone who's buried underneath their baby belly. So vast and heavy and undulating, it's hard to tell that there is a person struggling underneath~

More pregnant than person. Just a ball of flesh. Yum ~

Bright red, pulsing. Grumbling, gurgling, sounding like a pissed off monster.

That’s the best way to describe their belly: just monstrous. Just something utterly inhuman.

They could barely breathe. Even without their gargantuan belly pressing down on them like this, they are so packed, their lungs already didn’t have enough room to expand.

They quietly wail. Crying hurts almost too. It makes it harder to breathe but it’s all they could do.

They were so damn stupid to fuck around when they knew they were so fertile.

They squirm underneath their giant orb in the remains of their bed. Their bed had long given out underneath them and now, they fear the worst for their wooden weak floor.

They are still growing and they are hearing those ominous creaks again. It just might be their floor… or maybe even their belly…

They don’t know what’ll be worse: bursting or falling straight through a whole floor.

They cry harder. They can’t get any bigger. They don’t know what to do with all of these babies, their room is getting close in on them and they don’t know what’s going to burst or break next

They CAN’T get any bigger

But they most definitely will

“Please stop growing… I can’t take anymore… I’m going explode…” Their hands hover over their sensitive, groaning gut and beg. They are scared to even touch it.

And their belly responds with a dark rumble, signaling an impending growth spurt. The carrier whimpers and just prays as they try to prepare as best as they could

Too big to move

Not AI, 100% Real

Episode 10 - Twins

an egg pregnancy but they stay in your birth canal, growing bigger and heavier day after day, pressing against your hole, begging to be birthed but you can’t push, they’re not ready yet. the more they grow, the lower they feel inside you, and you have to resist the urge to get on your knees until they’re so big you’re so uncomfortable and full, stretching open your boycunt as you have no choice but to bear down.

the eggs getting so huge that they end up practically pushing themselves out because there's no more room is so hot